Date: Thu, 17 Nov 2011 20:33:39 -0600
From: michaelpete@hushmail.com
Subject: Promiscuity and Purpose #4

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic sexual depiction
between minors and minors and adults. The story is fiction but based on
real characters, events, places and situations. There is no relationship
between the names used and that of any real person. Send comments to
michaelpete@hushmail.com.

Michael Peterson

CHAPTER IV

HENRY & FRIENDS

	It was during that second year of high school that I fell in love
with a boy just on seeing him walk around the halls and ball field
outside. When I realized he played on the freshman football squad, even
before I knew his name, I volunteered to be a team manager, a kid that
organizes uniforms, carries balls around and so on. What I wanted, of
course, was access to the locker room after practice when they showered. It
worked. After the day's work out, I went about the locker room collecting
jerseys, pants and socks for washing, and there he was, in all his glory,
as beautiful as Billy Turner a year before, gloriously prepubescent,
hairless, the body of a Greek statue, hair, even wet, golden. My eyes
followed him out of the shower over to his locker, bending over as he dried
off, running the towel over his crotch. Oh how I wanted to do that for
him. I walked past him to get a closer look. His ass was magnificent. This
indeed was the great god Thor as a youth!

	With his locker number as a guide, I found his name to be Henry
Schaeffer, his birth date to be April fifth, sixteen days before mine. He
was thirteen and a halfback. Since I knew nothing about football, I quickly
went to the library, took out two books on the subject and rushed home to
study the game. Ned thought I'd flipped out and insisted on being shown the
very next day this new star in my life. That was accomplished in the
lunchroom.

	"I want him too as soon as you get him!" was Ned's reaction.

	Wednesday afternoon was another practice session with the same
locker room ritual afterward. With all the cute kids who populated the
freshman class, Henry was the only truly, for me at least, pretty one,
well, prettiest. There were a couple others I'd have happily hopped into
bed with but they didn't make it to the ten status like Henry. On the
football team, though, Henry was it. All the others were bigger and had
bushes covering their uninteresting groins, some up to their bellies. This
was Ned's group, not mine.

	Thursday, during his game, I made it a point to take Henry a cup of
water when he came to the bench. He accepted it but was in a heated
discussion with the kid beside him so he didn't even look up. Between
duties, I watched to see what Henry did on the field. He was fast, carrying
the ball several times but being stopped hard each time by bigger boys on
the opposing team.

	At half time, I sidled up to him in the locker room and
commiserated, "Those kids on Eastern's team are big. You okay?"

	He smirked, "Of course. I can take it."

	"You're fast, though. One of these times you'll get past them and
score a touchdown." I worried it had sounded uninformed if not downright
weird.

	The dumb remark earned a shoulder shrug and, "I can't talk now,
gotta listen to the coach." It didn't matter. He was replaced.

	I shut up, quite content to have made the first contact and not
been completely rebuffed.

	In the locker room after a humiliating loss, I again commiserated,
"They shoulda left you in." They hadn't during the second half.

	Shoulder shrug.

	I watched him undress, then dress without taking a shower. I left
nearly as depressed as he.

	There was no record of his address in the manager's room so I had
to spend the weekend plotting how I'd acquire that. Ned had a series of
ideas all of which could have had us expelled. Monday, I took the bull by
the horns, strutted up to Henry during recess and said, "You live on the
east side, right?"

	"Nah, west, on Brackberry. Why?"

	"I thought I saw you down my way last summer at the pool. You
swim?"

	"Uh huh, but I go to Biers' Park." That was a bus and streetcar
ride away.

	I ran out of questions, then, "Where'd you go to grade school?"

	"How come you wanna know all that?"

	"Just talk. I liked the way you played Friday." It seemed like a
good answer.

	"How come you don't play too?" Unexpected.

	I came up with, "Ah, I'm too slow, not fast like you."

	"You're big enough. You can play on the line."

	"I'd rather watch kids like you that are good." A Ned answer. He
was watching from across the yard.

	Henry looked at me, lips pursed, eyes squinted. Great eyes, brown
but great. Was he thinking what I was thinking? Of course not.

"I gotta study for a test. See you at practice." And, he was gone.

	Ned and I decided I'd accomplished a step forward, not a great one,
but it was forward.

	Over the next two weeks, I got closer, making sure his equipment
was right, his uniform sparkling, spikes clean. His cup of water was always
cold as I'd kept it in the ice chest which was there in case of injuries,
not ____. I praised everything Henry did right, a good catch in practice,
getting past the line of scrimmage during a game, which, sadly, was about
all he could do. In the third game, he was only sent in on half a dozen or
so plays. I complained they should have played him more; to him, not the
coach.

	Gradually, we talked more. I learned his father was a bus driver
but didn't live with him any more. His mother had thrown the man out for
something Henry suspected might have been another woman. He claimed to have
had a girl friend, a `skank' he called her since she was running after
several boys at once. I claimed Judy whom I hadn't seen since grade
school. He wanted to know what she was like, had we kissed, fucked? I told
a half truth, kissed, not fucked. Then, on a Tuesday, he claimed he'd lost
his streetcar fare, would I loan him five cents. Brian McGinnis flashed
across my mind.

I said, "Here, I work some."

	The expression was either suspicious or humble. "Thanks, I'll pay
you back."

	"Don't worry about it. You don't have to."

	He smiled, walked off, flipped the coin into the air and caught it.

	Seconds later, Ned was at my side, pulling on my arm. "What you
give him money for?"

	"Streetcar."

	"He coming to see you?"

	"Not yet." I had to explain.

	The next day, we had lunch together by the football field. I shared
a cupcake Mom had made. He ate a sandwich, a piece of bologna between two
slices of dry white bread, and a peach. He drank water from a fountain. I
immediately planned to make a real sandwich that night and hide it in my
book bag.

	I asked, "How come you're in first year and you're only thirteen?"

	He grinned. "I'm smart. They put me in first grade when I was
five."

	"You take any tests yet? It's hard here." You had to have a ninety
average in grade school to attend our high school. The courses were more
difficult than other schools.

	"Not yet. We got a couple on Friday: English and Science."

	"If you need any help, me and my cousin can help you."

	"I gotta go home right after school unless there's practice, so I
can't stay."

	"Come early. Just tell me when."

	He seemed to ponder that. The conversation turned to football which
he was tiring of since, he claimed, it was taking time away from study. I
didn't believe that since the most time homework ever took me was two and a
half hours and I lived about as far away from school as he. And, of course,
I didn't want to lose the opportunities to see him naked, especially wet,
his godlike body glistening.

	The extra sandwich the next day was welcomed when I explained Mom
had made me three by mistake. Then I gave him one of my two sugar cookies.

	"How come you're doing all this for me?"

	The tone of voice wasn't particularly friendly, nor at all
threatening.

	"I told you..."

	"You like how I play football but you don't even like the game. You
only watch me, nobody else."

	I was in a corner. Ned's cleverness would have been very handy
right then. I tried moderate honesty. "I don't know. I just kinda like
you."

	He frowned and stared at the cookie he'd only eaten half of. "Okay,
I'll see you at practice. I gotta go to class."

Class was twenty minutes away. Had I blown it?

	Ned worried the same when we spoke. There was no practice that day.

	I again brought along a third sandwich the next day but Henry
didn't appear outside, or in the lunchroom. It was a big school. Ned
thought it would be better if I just waited until he showed up
somewhere. He didn't come to practice that day. Checking the locker list, I
found his name had been crossed out. I was crushed. Had he been cut from
the team, quit, or, worse, left because of me?

	Ned had to talk me down from my panic.

	It was Friday morning before I saw him again.

When I asked, he answered, "I quit. They were gonna keep me on the bench
anyway. I play on Saturdays on a team in the park. It's better."

	"Wanna eat lunch together?"

	He stared at me again, frowned, but agreed.

	I gave him one of my sandwiches, half a cupcake, and half my
milk. He made no comments about it. When I asked if I could come watch him
play the next day, it actually seemed to perk him up. He gave me
instructions on how to get to Bier's Park. It was going to be difficult
because I was supposed to fix Mrs. Filbert's kitchen door in the
morning. The moment class was out, I hustled home and grabbed my tools. Ned
and Timmy came along to help. Mrs. Filbert was preparing to fix dinner and
in no mood for carpentry.

	I had to lie about a school event I was supposed to attend the next
day and promise to be out of her way by five thirty. Ned took her money and
ran off to buy the replacement hinges five blocks away at the hardware
store where my father worked. Timmy and I pulled the door down and chiseled
new notches in it and the door frame before Ned got back. Together, we
re-hung the door and cleaned up our mess, leaving proudly a little after
five, with cash in hand.

	Ned and I decided it would be best if only I went to Henry's
football game. Later, I found out that he and Timmy had a boy in my bedroom
minutes after I left.

	Bier's Park was several blocks below where the bus left me off, the
football field well hidden behind a large tree covered section. It took a
while to find it. Both teams were on the field when I arrived though the
game hadn't begun. Henry was with two others participating in the coin
toss. His team received, well, he received and ran nearly halfway up the
field, dodging and jumping over players a lot closer to his size than those
he'd faced as a member of our school team.

	Since he played both offense and defense, I didn't see him until
halftime.

He appeared happy to see me. "I saw you watching. How'd I do?"

	"You are really good!"

	"I told you," and off he went to be with his coach.

	They won by two touchdowns.

	After the game, both teams went into a field house close to where
they'd played. Nearly everyone took a shower. I was in heaven. Thirty or so
twelve and thirteen year olds, a few hairy but most not, stripped, walked
gloriously naked into a large shower room easily visible from where I
stood, soaped up, rinsed off, turning this way and that, a few developing
hard ons, which a couple showed off to anyone who cared to look, and
several did, then traipsed back into the locker area and dried off. Henry,
though the best, wasn't the only beauty. Several caught my eye including
one slim, nice looking blond with a bald developing cock and a beautifully
flat tummy who noticed me noticing him and winked, whatever that
meant. However, once dressed, he walked out past me without any further
communication.

	I took Henry across the park to a ten cent hamburger house where we
ate and shared a chocolate shake. He went over just about every play of the
game. I feigned interest but didn't understand most of what he was
saying. One doesn't learn football out of books.

	When we finished, he said seriously, "I gotta go home now. I'll see
you in school." Not what I had in mind but, according to the plan, I was
not to attempt more than he seemed to want. I went home frustrated only to
find my bed obviously well used. Timmy told me why.

	"Ned brought this kid, Steve, same as you. He's thirteen, and he
let the kid fuck him but then he only let Ned fuck him between the legs."

	"And what about you?"

	Timmy grinned. "He said you were gonna be all hot when you got home
so I could fuck you or somethin'."

	Feeling a bit exploited but, as Ned had predicted, being hot as a
pistol, I fucked him first.

	Ned made no apologies about the thirteen year old.

"He was almost as big as me, not his dick, just him, and had hair all over
his dick. You wouldn'ta liked him."

	Sunday, suddenly and inexplicably filled with animosity toward the
Catholic Church over its animosity toward sex, I told Mom I didn't want to
go to Mass.

	"Why, honey?"

	We'd always been fairly honest with one another, except, of course,
regarding the truth about my sex life, so I just said, "I just don' wanna
today."

	She accepted that. Patty gave me a worried look. I tried to appear
reassuring.

	Ned often stayed at his mother's house Saturday nights just to
avoid Mass on Sundays. His mother hadn't attended in years. Timmy didn't
like church generally, escaping his own home Sunday mornings early to avoid
Baptist services with his grandmother and aunt. When he saw my family leave
without me, he came knocking. We went to the pool for an extended swim then
to a movie and back to the park where we walked around and sat in the
grass, talking about the movie, the war and why there were wars and why God
made sex feel so good, then said we weren't supposed to do it. Neither had
an answer, just aggravation regarding the quandary.

	The conversation continued that night in bed. It ended with us in a
slow, loving sixty-nine in which position we fell asleep.

	Monday, Henry came straight to me before class. "So, how'd you like
my game Saturday?"

	"It was fun. You played great."

	"I think I did good on my tests Friday. We're gonna get `em back
today so I'll know for sure. You take any tests yet?"

	"Just a surprise test in history. I only got one thing wrong so I
got a ninety, ten questions."

	It was `make talk'.

	"I'll see you at lunch time," he said and walked off toward the
main entrance.

	Though he seemed enthusiastic, there hadn't been any substance to
our little greeting party.

	Lunch time was no better. He even commented on the weather. But, I
wasn't supposed to lead, just follow. I began to doubt the strategy, though
he was coming to me.

	I didn't see him after school.

	Ned was working on another freshman from another school and didn't
have time to talk, just rushed off the moment the bell rang.

	Tuesday was much of the same until I got home and found Lester
Pearson waiting for me. He'd grown and was as tall as me but thinner. His
voice had changed and was deeper than mine though his face still had a
boyish look to it.

	He seemed uncomfortable. "Hi," was all he could get out at first.

	I returned the `Hi.'

	"Can I talk to you, about something?"

	I couldn't imagine any topic outside of sex. Timmy was already in
my room doing homework so I took Lester into the bathroom and closed the
door only to have it rapped on loudly as I slid home the lock.

	"Steve, I gotta pee." It was Nellie.

	We stepped out and she darted in, kicking the door closed behind
her. When she came out, she gave us both a suspicious look.

I tried to explain. "Timmy's in my room and we gotta talk about something
private."

	"Yeah, I'll bet," she retorted with a flip of her head and was off
down the hallway.

	The moment the door was closed, Lester blurted out in a whisper,
"I'm like you!" He sat on the side of the tub, hands folded tightly
together like he had a captured bug between them.

	I had no idea how to react. He was apparently admitting to being a
homosexual. That alone was a surprise, having him admit it to me right
there in my bathroom, even more so.

	"I like sex with other boys, not girls, just boys. What'm I gonna
to do? What if people find out? What if my parents find out? My father'll
kill me."

	"I thought your father died?"

	"No, yes, my new one, Frank. He doesn't like me anyway and he's
always talking about dirty fags. He hates homosexuals. What'm I gonna do?"

	He was close to crying. I sat beside him, put my arm over his
shoulder.

"Just don't tell anybody. You know I'm not going to say anything."

His taking off after that last session when he'd sucked off Ned now made
sense. He was terrified. I embraced him.

	He turned toward me, threw his arms around me and squeezed me
white. "I hadda talk to somebody or I was gonna jump in front of a
streetcar. I almost did. Thank you. I knew you'd understand. You can fuck
me if you want."

	It was all moving far too fast for me. Worse, the boy holding me
had the voice of a man, a young man, but a body way beyond my age of
interest.

"We can just talk."

	"I need somebody to have sex with. I'm going crazy."

His words sounded like something a homosexual would say but without the
feminine inflections. Would he like Timmy? He'd fuck him but his skinny
four inches probably wasn't what he wanted. Where was Ned? He'd fuck
anything with two legs.

	"Please. I'll do anything you say."

	The guilt set in. I was denying a person who really needed
somebody. "Timmy's in there but he knows all about us. Or we can wait until
he's finished his homework, or if you want, Ned'll be here sometime and..."

	"Let's go."

	Timmy, as though we were going to take a nap, just moved off the
bed to a corner and continued writing something in his copy book. Lester
was out of his clothes in seconds. I was still getting the Vaseline out of
the drawer. He thankfully wasn't all that hairy, just a brush over the top
of his hard on and a ring of bristles around the bottom. There was a growth
above his ankles but none under his arms. I could do this.

	"Want me to suck you first. You can suck me too if you want."

We sixty-nined for a while. It wasn't too bad though I was sure his semen
would have a foul taste. Still, he got me stone hard and anxious to get
inside him. Entry, though, even with plenty of Vaseline and spit, was
painful for him. He groaned as I pushed my head past his sphincter. I
stopped.

	"It's okay. I know it'll be okay after you're all the way in."

	Considering the pain he was enduring with me, Ned would have been a
disaster. I pushed in slowly, halting each time he cringed. He had the
pillow clenched in his fingers, his face buried into it. I wondered how he
was breathing in there. Once I was completely inside him, he relaxed a
little, let go of the pillow and put one hand on my butt, urging me to get
to it.

	I pulled back halfway and pushed back in. He didn't feel all that
tight. It seemed strange that it would hurt him so. He lifted his face out
of the pillow.

"I'm okay. Fuck, all the way."

It rhymed. I almost laughed but fucked instead, longer and harder with each
stroke. When he said, "Oh God, that feels great," I forgot him and made
myself feel `great'. I even stopped three times to allow it to go on
longer. Closing my eyes, holding onto fairly soft though boney shoulders,
forgetting I was fucking a fourteen year old adolescent, it was good
sex. When I finally shot my load, I stayed in there, sliding back and
forth, savoring the feeling, comparing it in my mind with Billy, Timmy and
Ned. I could do this. Ned was going to have to share his older boys with
me.

Though I was willing, Lester didn't want to fuck me. He asked me to remain
inside him and keep screwing while he beat off. I had Timmy get me a T
shirt so he wouldn't mess the bed. His cum smelled as bad as I'd
expected. I asked Timmy to open the window, cooling down the room
quickly. After checking the hallway, we ran across, clothes in hand, to the
bathroom and washed off the appropriate body parts.

Lester admitted, "I did it a bunch of times with a sawed off broom
handle. You were a lot better."

When I repeated Lester's words to him, Ned thought that was hilarious,
twice that evening calling me `better than a broom handle'. Timmy spent the
night and used spit which was a lot easier to clean up than Vaseline
Petroleum Jelly. I had to use the latter to get inside of him.

Henry was again pleasantly civil the next day, and the next but, Friday, he
became more conversational, asking about me and my life and telling me a
little more about himself, even repeating a few items from previous
conversations. He had grown up on a farm, only coming to the city three
years before. His father had a drinking and fidelity problem. His mother
smoked. He had an older brother eighteen and sister sixteen neither of whom
spoke to him very much or each other. His brother had made a baby with a
girl he no longer dated. His sister was probably being screwed by one of
two boys she was seeing. Neither sibling had gotten past tenth grade. Henry
had fucked a chicken once when a friend showed him how but the smell had
been difficult to get off his body. His mother hadn't mentioned anything
but he was sure she had to have noticed something in his underwear when she
washed them so never did it again. However, it had felt great. I should try
it but with a big chicken and take clean underwear along.

The last tale left me wondering why, true or not, he would tell it to
me. Was this farm talk? Or was he hinting at something?

I gave him my dull family background and aims to be a handyman all my life
but a highly paid one. My favorite class was carpentry so maybe I'd do that
instead.

He liked science, biology particularly. No life goal was mentioned, nor
girl friend or friends. Neither of us brought up girl friends.

His game the next day was just outside the city but if I got there early,
he'd get his coach to take me along on the bus, though I'd probably have to
pay my own way. He made a point of mentioning they had a field house like
his where everyone could shower after the game. Had he caught my wandering
eye the week before, or in the school locker room before that?

We all rode together on a five cent city bus. The game began with a prayer
for the father of one of the boys on the other team who'd died that week of
injuries suffered in Germany less than a week before VE Day. Nonetheless,
we were told, his son was there to do his part and get past his terrible
loss. The coach leading the prayer was sure the boy's Dad had killed plenty
of Nazis before being downed and that his sacrifice had helped bring about
our side's victory.

His speech must have inspired his players because they eeked out a one
point win when Henry's team failed on an extra point kick attempt that
everyone on the team felt should have been a run.

The locker room was as inspiring as the one in Bier's Park though the boys
of the other team were slightly larger, more developed sexually,
hairier. The blond from Henry's team who'd winked at me the week before,
did so again, but nothing more.

As the previous week, Henry told me he had to go straight home after the
game and suggested I stay on the bus we were riding rather than get off and
have to pay again. Reluctantly, I did.

Only Nellie and Debbie were in the house when I arrived. Without a warm
body to release the tension in my groin, I used my hand.

Alone in bed that night, I had what was probably the first serious debate
with myself about religion and the whole concept of God. In the downtown
library over the previous few visits, I'd skimmed a few books regarding
atheism. Patty, who could only come downtown if I took her, caught me once
but only shrugged her shoulders and remarked, "Weird" before going back to
the history section for a homework assignment. The authors seemed to argue
that we and every other living thing on our planet were the result of a
natural progression, evolution, a concept we'd touched on in grade school
and to a certain extent in high school but had been told mankind wasn't
part of. The omniscient, all knowing, all wise God had plunked us down here
thousands of years before. Ancient bones anthropologists were finding were
probably some form of ape.

These writers disputed that, claimed that mankind descended from an apelike
predecessor over a million, or millions depending on which author one read,
years before as they had descended from other animals millions of years
before that.

I'd been afraid of what my mother would think, possibly more than `weird',
were she to find such a book in my room so I put them back on their
shelves.

In bed that night, I put what I'd read together with my own feelings that
no loving God would have allowed such terrible events as the Inquisition,
Hiroshima, Nagasaki or the religiously based hatred homosexuals faced every
day. Before I fell asleep, I'd decided to read more from those books and no
longer accept religion as it had been forced on me since first grade.

Once again, in the morning, I refused to go to Mass and, to avoid an
uncomfortable discussion with my mother when she returned, went off to
Ned's house. Timmy was there in bed with him. Nothing was going on though I
assumed it had during the night. His bedroom door had no lock.

	The three of us went back to my house where there was more food to
have breakfast. When the rest of my family got home, we were listening to
the Sunday morning radio shows. I knew my mother wasn't going to try to
talk over my lack of religious fervor in front of my two best friends.

	Monday in school, Henry was friendly though spoke mostly about why
they'd lost their Saturday game. He seemed to really understand the
strategy of football which I didn't and about which I was completely
disinterested. But, I got the impression there was something else he wanted
to say.

I tried, "So what'd you do after the game?" but only got "chores", "had to
babysit my little cousin" and "homework".

After school, however, rather than rush off, he took me under some trees
off the back end of the smaller football field, the one he'd played on, all
the way telling me we'd talk once we were "away from everybody else".

	He had a difficult time getting started. I was charged with hope
for something intimate, possibly not sex but maybe something that would
lead to it. He had to have seen me ogling his body those many times he was
naked in front of me.

	After telling me about what a "great bunch of guys" he had on his
team, he said, "A couple of `em wanna meet you."

	The `meet' sounded to me like the biblical `know'. I decided to
clarify `meet'.

"How come?"

	"I dunno. They just think you're a neat guy."

	"How old are they?"

	"Thirteen. Both of `em."

	I was fifteen and a head, or most of one, taller than most of his
teammates. "Whatta they wanna do?" That had to bring more clarity.

	Henry lowered his head. "You know."

	I waited for more. He stuck his finger in his mouth and looked,
eyes only, up at me.

	"C'mon, Henry, what?"

	He sighed, cocked his bowed head to one side. "They saw how you
were, you know, looking at `em, and me and, you know."

	"What?" I insisted, smiling, head bowed to his level, staring into
his again lowered eyes.

	"You know, suck."

	`Suck what?' was the unspoken reply in my head. This was definitely
new ground. Again, I needed Ned. He was within eyesight but what would
Henry do if I called for him? Would he think we were gonna beat up on him?

	Filling my silence, Henry continued, "I don't care if you're a fag,
we're still friends. Wanna? They're okay. And Ned can come too if you
want. He one too?"

	There was my break. "Lemme ask him?" Neat answer. Could be taken
two ways.  .
	I motioned for Ned to come. He ambled rather than walked over. I
thought it was another proof of his social awareness. He always seemed to
know how to handle delicate situations. Realizing he should know what he
was ambling into, I stood, met him a few yards from Henry and whispered
what had been said.

	"You know who these two are?"

	"If it's that blond kid winked at me, I'd really like to do him but
that's the only one I kinda know who he is. There were others really nice
looking. And he wants to know if you're a fag too."

"He said `fag'?"

"Didn't sound like he meant it in a bad way. Anyway, we do `em, maybe I can
do him. You know I wanna do that. Anyway, we're bigger so what can they
do?"

"Be assholes, but okay, say yes. He say when, or where?"

We ambled to Henry and sat on either side of him.

I asked, "I know these two?"

"Michael says he looked at you and you looked at him like, you know, maybe
you wanted to do something. He's blond, blonder'n me and taller, kinda
skinny."

I nodded affirmatively to Ned.

"The other one's name is Martin, he's smaller, I mean shorter and has brown
hair and more muscles, you know, strong like. You wanna come? You can do it
at Martin's house. He's the only one home in the afternoons. His father's
in the Marines and the rest of `em work. Wanna?"

"Depends on when, and just you three."

"I dunno if I'm gonna be able to go, maybe, if my mother lets me out."

I didn't believe his excuse. "If you're not there, how are we gonna know
where to go?"

They were going to meet us the next day at a certain bus stop at four or
when the bus went by. They'd be there at fifteen before. They knew me and I
would recognize Michael, the blond and probably Martin too.

"Why can't you just go with us? It'll be easier. I don't wanna do anything
unless you're there too."

"They ain't gonna do nothing bad, just what I said."

I didn't believe he'd scotch the deal if I insisted on his presence. "No
deal if you don't come too."

"How come? I ain't gonna do nothin'."

"You don't gotta. Just come with us. For me." Was that too much?

	A frown, a sigh, and, "Okay, but remember, I ain't gonna do
nothin'."

	I had to interrupt Timmy's homework when I got home to keep from
having a seizure. He didn't mind. Then I had to be Ned's relief.

	Henry's only reference to what was planned for after school was a
half whispered remark as the three of us parked ourselves by a school
building wall to eat lunch. The rest of the conversation was taken up with
questions regarding Henry's science class, magnetic attraction to be exact,
for which he had a test right after lunch. We had all the
answers. According to his facial expression in the hall at one twenty, he'd
aced it.

	We were quiet on the bus ride to the west side of town. No one was
waiting for us when we got off. Henry explained, "They're at Martin's house
so it's not like a gang walking in there."

	Martin's house was several blocks north of the bus route in a
rather dingy neighborhood of narrow two story houses accented by the
occasional well kept, painted front home and a few anemic trees. I
suspected most were rentals, Martin's one of them. I recognized the boy who
answered the door as one who'd flashed his hard on in the shower but
couldn't remember how big it was or if there'd been any pubic
hair. Michael, the blond who'd winked at me twice was waiting at the top of
the narrow stairway. He smiled and nodded, then winked, at me. I winked
back.

	Martin's small narrow bedroom was a mess. Dirty clothes were piled
on the floor near the top of his unmade bed. The pillow case was dirty as
was what little I could see of the window below the three quarters drawn,
faded shade. Michael, his voice exhibiting only the first vestiges of its
coming downward drop, introduced himself and Martin. I introduced
Ned. Henry stood uncomfortably by the door. I took his arm and pulled him
two steps inside.

	There was silence for a few seconds. Ned broke it with a solemn,
"We are all gathered here together to join , who?" He looked at each of us,
all but Martin grinning. He seemed confused.

	Michael, still smiling, asked, "Who wants to go first? Me, of
course." He was unzipping his fly.

Martin did it too, pulling out half a soft cock and falling backward onto
the bed. "I'm ready," he said proudly, still a soprano.

	Ned directed, his finger raised, "Naked, boys. Can't do anything
like that."

	Michael went for his belt.

Martin said, "Fuck that, faggots, suck me like this."

	Michael turned to him. Martin shot back, "What? I ain't taking my
pants for no faggot to..."

	"Shut up, Martin. Christ!" Michael opened and dropped his pants
then pushed down his briefs. "This okay?" He was gorgeous up close, his
soft cock full, inviting, like an unwrapped Almond Joy.

	I was ready. Ned shook his head.

"We always do it when the kid we're gonna do is all the way naked, so we
can like it better."

	Martin reacted immediately. "That's bullshit! You suck `em any..."

	Again we saw who was in charge. "Christ! Shut up. They're doin' it,
not us. Take your fucking clothes off." Michael was removing his as he
spoke, shirt first.

	"Shit," grumbled Martin as he leaned over to untie his grimy
leather shoes.

	I looked at Henry.

He shook his head. "I told you. I ain't doin' nothin'."

	I hoped seeing the happiness we were about to bestow on his two
friends would motivate him.

	Michael was nude first, and gorgeous. I beat Ned to him, sat on the
bed and pulled him down on his back. His cock began to rise on its own.

	Martin was still trying to pull his smelly socks off with trouser
legs in the way.

	I took hold of Michael's hardening penis. I felt rather than saw a
slight fringe of hair growing across the top. There was no visible hair on
his legs. I felt his shooter marble sized balls. They moved easily around
in their loose sack. His cock was about the length of Timmy's but twice as
thick, eminently suckable. I hoped for some juice.

	Martin finally got his pants off but his groin was still covered by
boxers. He worked on his shirt, button by button then pulled it back to
front over his head along with his tee shirt. He did have a well developed
body. Then the boxers came off. His balls had begun to grow but his dick
was the size of Billy's a year before. I knew Ned was pissed, but I wasn't
about to give up beautiful Michael.

I leaned over and went down on him. He was delicious, and loved it. The
moment my mouth met his body, his feet came off the floor. His gut under my
left hand hardened. I ran my fingers and palm up and down, nascent pubic
hairs to tits in time with my mouth.

Ned, butt lover that he was, sat against the wall, pushed Martin down on
the bed, reached around, grabbing a handful of butt cheek, then rolled him
over onto his side.

"Don't touch my ass," ordered Martin as he tried to push Ned's hand off his
plump behind.

	Ned shook his hand off and grabbed a handful of bun.

"Get your hand..."

	"Christ, Martin," interrupted Michael, more irritated than before."
This feels great. So shut up and enjoy it. Christ."

And enjoying it he was. Both hands were palms down on the mattress. His
eyes were closed tight. I crawled up on the bed in a near sixty-nine
position, let go of his steely spike and sucked in his soft balls, letting
my top lip wet his perineum. He closed his legs.

	Martin was quiet. A look over his way showed why. Ned had pushed
him up on the bed and was sucking him from below, cock and balls inside his
mouth, head revolving, hands under his cheeks lifting him
slightly. Martin's legs were straight out, toes curled down. One hand was
at his side, the other poised over Ned's shoulder but not yet touching it.

	I looked the other way for Henry. He was gone. My disappointment
was somewhat dissipated by the dick in my mouth. Henry was going to hear
how good it had been and this was going to happen again, perhaps with a
horny Henry on the bed naked too.

	Michael didn't resist when I put my hands under his buns as Ned was
doing with Martin. He even rose up to facilitate it then, with the help of
his hands on the bed, continued pushing up and down in time with my rising
and falling mouth.

	Ned had released Martin's cock and was down below his balls, his
head moving up and down, probably licking him clean down by his
hole. Surprise, surprise, Martin had opened up to allow it. How far would
he let Ned go?

	I was much too content with that thick pole over and under my
tongue and Michael's obvious pleasure. Twice, when I felt him nearing
climax, I went back to his balls but the third time, Michael's hand stopped
my head halfway up. Every fiber of his muscles, neck to toes, was stiff as
steel. I heard "ohhh" come out of his mouth. A smattering of something
sweet spread across the back of my tongue. His cock pulsed several
times. He breathed out audibly, "Oh Christ!"

	A quick look to my left caught Martin's head up, his eyes focused
on the top of Ned's head, which was all that he could see with Ned buried
deep between his raised thighs. I stayed on Michael in hopes he wouldn't
look. His body relaxed, his hand fiddled with my hair.

	Ned slid, tongue first, up to the top of Martin's three inches of
blood bloated flesh and went down on it, up, down, up, down, up
down. Martin's legs again shot out straight. He sucked in air. His face
seemed pained though I was sure it wasn't. The question was, if Ned could
get him alone, could Martin take that huge cock?

	When I mentioned he was gone, Michael, still naked, went and looked
for Henry, but he'd left the house. When I met him in the hall, he said,
"You wanna do it with him, huh?"

	I nodded yes.

	Michael promised to convince him and asked when we could do this
again, soon he hoped. I said I'd talk to Ned but kept Michael in the
hallway for a while to give Ned time to try for Martin's ass.

Michael let me grope his still stiff cock and commented, "You did this
before, didn't you, lots?"

	I got to my knees and sucked softly. Michael managed a second
orgasm there in the hallway.

	Both boys walked us to the bus stop and waited nearly half an hour
until a bus showed up. We'd settled on a weekly meet, Tuesdays when
possible, the next back there but then at my place if I could be sure of
privacy.

	I had to wait until we were on foot again, waiting for the
streetcar east to hear what went on in the bedroom.

	"He was really scared Michael was going to find out he let me rim
him but I knew Michael had seen us when I was doing it. That asshole was
looking so hard at me he didn't see Michael watching. When I said he should
try getting fucked but just do it with somebody alone, he said `no way' but
I knew he really liked my tongue in there and he wasn't all that tight. But
then he says maybe and wants to see how big my dick is and I know it's
gonna scare him off but he kept askin' so I got it out and he says `no way
that's gonna fit in me' so I say he should let you do it first `cause
you're smaller so he's gonna think about it but I'm not supposed to say
anything to you or nobody. He's really stupid. I hope Michael don't say
nothin' `cause it might scare him from doin' it. He's got one great ass."

	I told him that Michael wouldn't even let me lick under his balls.

	Timmy had gone home by the time we arrived so we had to wait until
bedtime to ease our physical needs. At nine, we locked the door. I got
fucked second since, even though Michael had closed his back door, I'd had
the prettier of the two.

	I got to school a little early with plans to mend any bad feelings
that may have resulted from the pressure I'd put on Henry the previous
afternoon. I had no idea why he felt the need to take off as he did or, to
be honest, why he hadn't wanted to participate.

He got there shortly before the bell and acted as though all was well, even
asked, "You have fun?"

	At lunch, he claimed that he just wasn't into that kind of sex.

"We can still be friends, right, just not like that?"

	"Sure. You don't have to do anything with me you don't want to."

It was awkward. Why would this still prepubescent kid, two years younger
and nothing in common with me want to be my friend? My desire was purely
romantic. Was there something that he admired in me, found comforting,
convenient?

	Lester came by again shortly after I arrived home from school. He
again seemed desperate for physical affection. Ned was too big for him,
Timmy too small but the only one horny. He gave him a try but the small
twelve year old was quickly turned off when Lester tried to kiss him. Ned
and I were working on preparing a social studies project about World War I
and its relation to the conflict that had just ended. Ned got Lester to
accept Timmy's dick but when Timmy got off, Lester complained he wasn't
even close. Ned thought it was funny that we had a kid there in the bedroom
begging to be fucked and we weren't interested. Nonetheless, he produced
his monster and brought it to full size. With Timmy and me bemusedly
watching, Lester stared at it for a damn near a full minute.

	Then, "You got plenty of Vaseline?" That was desperation.

	Doubting very much this was going to be possible but too curious
not to see if it could, I dug out the jar and Ned stripped. Lester tried
sitting on him. I held Ned's seven incher straight up while Lester moved
around, back and forth, in an attempt to get the head past his anus. I was
behind him so couldn't see his face. Timmy, sitting naked on the bed,
grimaced looking at Lester's face. When the head did suddenly pop inside,
Lester groaned then lifted off. It wasn't going to work.

	By then, my horns were back up so I fucked him while Ned stuck his
big thing up inside me. It was actually pretty good. All three of us got
off, Lester first.

	While we were at it, Timmy scooped a dab of petroleum jelly and
beat off.

	An update on our little friend. Although he'd turned twelve, he was
still fairly small, weighing just sixty-three pounds on the penny drugstore
scale. Standing naked, the big cock of his looked huge on his small slim
body which hadn't thickened very much even with all the good food he was
consuming in great quantities at my house. Starting his third year of
school, officially in fourth grade having completed first and second during
his first year, he was on track to enter fifth after the first of the
year. As mentioned, he didn't have much more than average intelligence but
was considerably ahead of most of his classmates in willingness to apply
himself to his studies. Most days after school we'd find him sprawled
across my bed with his books. If we had someone for sex, he'd just move
into the corner down from the window and forge on ignoring the squirming
naked boys in front of him; well, most days. There were quite a few when
he'd eventually strip and join in the fun often completing his homework
still naked, sometimes with a soiled cock.

Timmy's favorite time of day for sex was early morning when he had his
granite hard testosterone erection. Many a day, I'd awaken with his saliva
lubed cock already inside me or with Timmy turned head to crotch with me,
sucking on my morning hard on, waiting for me to wake up and get to work on
his. When Ned was there too, it was crowded on my single size bed. I was
more often than not in the middle with Timmy's arm under mine, draped over
my chest to keep him from being pushed onto the floor. Ned liked it against
the wall but every once in a while would haul Timmy in front of him, along
with the Vaseline, and go to sleep with his cock buried inside Timmy's tiny
body. They were the only pair I ever met who could pull that off. Everyone
else who tried it came loose as soon as the fucker went soft. They both
claimed that Ned could get off two or three times a night, never coming
out. Of course, he had to beat off Timmy each time but that kid seemed to
have an endless supply of available orgasms.

After nights like that, I had no idea how either of them could stay awake
all day, much less be attentive in class or do their homework, but,
somehow, they did.

For some reason, though, Timmy preferred my company. Probably three
quarters of his sex was with me. He almost always went with me on repair
jobs, something Ned was no longer doing. He emulated my speech, my eating
manners or lack thereof, my walk, a lazy sort of fast stroll if you can
imagine such a thing. Whether he needed it or not, he constantly consulted
me on his studies and beamed when I complimented him on his high test
scores. He liked to sit next to me, leaning into me if practical. The
nighttime closeness always began as an embrace. As with Ned, there wasn't
anything between us that could be called romance. He never initiated
kissing during sex and when I did it was generally mouth closed. We loved
each other very much but like older and younger brothers.

There was some jealousy, particularly with Billy Turner. Timmy sensed my
romantic love for him, and, possibly due to Billy's lack of non-sexual
involvement with me, resented it. That was probably why he was so hot to
fuck him because when he did, I didn't. Recognizing the problem, I tried to
make up with additional attention each time after Billy left. And since
Billy only came around for sex, never to just hang with us and never
outside the house, it never became a serious challenge to our brotherly
friendship.

What had the potential to cause problems were my intense feelings for Henry
Schaeffer. To say I was enamored with him would be an understatement. Every
disappointment such as his leaving the sex party with Michael and Martin
left me depressed. Sex with Ned or Timmy helped but I got the feeling Timmy
sensed that at least some of my passion may have originated elsewhere.

	It was to become even more complicated.

	Friday afternoon, rather than go home right away, as I walked him
slowly to his bus stop, Henry asked, "How many other kids're you doing sex
with?"

It was the first time the theme had come up since his Wednesday comment. I
was worried Michael hadn't kept his promise to promote my having sex with
Henry.

	"A few."

	"Like Ned or, you know, like Michael and Martin?"

	"Yeah."

	"And bigger, younger?"

	I wasn't sure admitting a lot of sex would have a negative or
positive reaction. "Some."

	"Which, bigger or littler?"

	"Littler but that was mostly before when I was younger."

	"And now?"

	I grinned and put my arm over his shoulder. "Why?"

	"Just curious." He draped his arm over my shoulder.

	"Okay, there's one younger."

	"How much, I mean, how old is he?" Where was this headed?

	"Twelve but he's little like he's ten."

	Henry was silent long enough that we passed his corner and
continued on up the street. There was another bus stop at each succeeding
street. I was happy to keep this interesting conversation going.

	"How come you know him?"

	"I met him almost four years ago at the swimming pool. They
wouldn't let him in `cause he didn't have underwear or a bathing suit and I
got him one."

	"When he was eight? You had sex with him when he was eight?"

	"Umm hmm."

A brief pause, then, "So, how did you end up having sex with him?"

	"I don't remember exactly," I lied, "I think he saw us beating off
or something."

	"You beat off in front of him, when he was eight? Didn't he say
something?" There was nothing accusatory in his tone, just curiosity.

	"Nah, he'd never say anything. He likes it too much."

	"He was doin' it too?"

	"Sure, he liked it."

	"So he just did it `cause you were."

	"Not just. He did it before. Most kids do."

	More silence, then, "Where'd you do it?"

	"In my room, in our bathtub."

	"In your bathtub," he said incredulously. "How come he was in your
bathtub with you?"

	I grinned again and yanked on him. "To take a bath."

	"But why..."

	I interrupted. "His apartment don't have much hot water so we said
he could use ours."

	"But why were you in there with him? Most kids like to take a bath
by themselves. Don't you?"

	It was time to be more frank. "We wanted to see him naked, see if
he liked sex, and he did."

	"Wow! And he didn't say nothin' to nobody?"

	"Nah. Most kids aren't gonna say anything. You didn't about me.

	"But I didn't do nothin'. Just you guys. And this kid was eight?"

	"Uh huh, but he's twelve now, just not a whole lot bigger." I
suspected something. "You wanna meet him? He's at my house doing homework
now. He lives more with us than his grandmother."

	"Gees, he lives with you? How'd you work that?"

	I gave him a brief scenario of Timmy's life without mentioning his
being fucked by his bigger cousins.

	"Shit, I gotta go home now but, shit. I can say the coach wanted me
to help at the game or something. That kid took your place, the new team
manager, he's lame. The other kids say he don't do nothing right. I can say
I was helping him. She won't get all that mad. Anyway, I been hit before."
He was talking more to himself than me. "Okay, let's go. I wanna see your
house anyway."

	So, there it was, the reason he didn't want sex with me. He was
like me. Did he realize it? What was Timmy going to think about all this?"

	All the way sitting in the back of the streetcar, there were more
questions about Timmy. What did he look like? Fat, thin? Did we sleep in
the same bed? What did my mother think about me sleeping with this kid who
wasn't family? Didn't the neighbor kids say things? And, finally, the most
difficult, why did he want to live with me and not his own kin?"

	I had to weigh my answer before speaking. "I don't know, just that
we like each other a lot. I got him in school and buy him stuff like his
clothes and school stuff and we do a lot together."

	"But you're fifteen and he's only twelve."

	"And you're just thirteen and we like each other."

	"But..." He stared out the window in thought. Was this kind of
situation he dreamt of or had I opened one nasty can of worms?

	He thought my house was a lot nicer than his.

Patty sneered at the new face. "I hope they're all paying you something." I
hoped she meant for help with their schoolwork.

	Timmy was where he always was at this time of day during the
week. Henry briefly resisted entering the room then came in behind me.

	"Hey, Steve, do that adding fractions thing again, the lowest
common dinumber or something." There was a slight frown when he saw Henry.

	I made the introductions then lay on the bed beside him and went
over how to find a lowest common denominator and use it in the addition of
three fourths and five eighths. It was the third or fourth time I'd had to
do it. I suspected the request was more for attention than a lack of
understanding. He was already doing it as it was being explained. I kissed
him on the cheek. He backed away with a glance at our visitor.

	I leaned in and whispered, "Henry likes sex too."

	Timmy shrugged his shoulders.

	I became too forward. To Henry I whispered, "Let me suck you and
maybe he'll join us."

	This time, Henry backed off. "Nah, I'm already in trouble. I better
go home."

	And that was the end of that. He was out the door with me in
pursuit, insisting his only reason for leaving was to avoid a more serious
punishment, maybe `just get yelled at'. He did tell me that the next day's
game was on the south side of town with a Police Boy's Club. No showering
facilities. I had to be at their field before nine. At least I'd be able to
ask Michael what Henry's reaction had been to his suggestion he have sex
with us.

	Back at the house, Timmy asked, "How come he left so fast?"

	"He thought you were going to rape him."

	"Or you. How come you always wanna do sex with so many different
kids?"

	"Nah, he just wanted to see my house. He's on the football team I
told you about, the one I'm helping."

	"Shit, you don't like football. You just like him." That dug deep.

	"So I like boys. I love you."

	"And Ned."

	"Sure, you and Ned."

	"And Billy."

	"He comes around for sex. That's all."

	"And Lester?"

	"He wants somebody to fuck him and you're too small and Ned's too
big." I put my arms over and under him. "But I don't do stuff with them,
just you guys. It's like going to a movie or something with them. I love
you and Ned."

	"So, what about when it's two and five eights?"

	The subject changed that quickly. Had he understood my inspired
movie allegory?


	The football field Henry's team played on the next morning was the
worst I'd seen. There were only patches of grass, lots of small rocks,
trash and even broken bottles that had to be cleared off by both teams
before the game could get underway. The other team seemed bigger, older
with deeper voices, only a couple sopranos. Some of Henry's teammates made
comments about it to their coaches. I was too busy looking for an
opportunity to speak with Michael but he seemed more interested in not
talking to me. Were there rumors about me with this group? The men were
very content to have me helping out with shoestrings and water.

An interior canvas support bands of one boy's leather helmet came loose. A
coach dug out needle and thread and I volunteered to set it back in
place. Since that would have made it too short, I got some cotton out of
the first aid kit and sewed it along the loose band creating a cushion the
band was supposed to provide. Everybody liked it.

	The game went bad right from the start. Our team received the ball
but fumbled on the return due to a crushing tackle by a boy considerably
larger than poor Henry. By half time, even our normally buoyant coaches
were unhappy. One went to speak to the referee about the obvious age
difference and nasty play. The other coach, a cop apparently, came out and
angrily denounced our coach. A few minutes after the second half started,
one of the police team players hit one of our defensive players in the
face. Our coaches decided that was enough and pulled the team off the
field. Negotiations were attempted but no one on our side was willing to
continue.

	Our coach asked the referee to write a report with his grievances
but the man didn't seem interested. He blew his whistle and gave the win to
the other side which was already ahead by three touchdowns to none.

Rocks were thrown at us as we hastily left.

	Our players grumbled all the way back on the trolley, then bus,
required to get to their neighborhood. The coach promised to write a letter
to the Department of Recreation which was in charge of the league and had
the numbers of several of the players on the other team the adults with us
felt were over thirteen.

	At the bus stop closest to Biers Park, Michael motioned with his
eyes for me to follow him. He and three others, not including Henry, headed
to their ball park and asked for and received permission to shower. One of
the pair other than Michael and Martin was smaller, dark skinned, softly
muscled and cute; the other slightly more developed than Michael with a
modicum of pubic hair and a cock nearly as big as mine.

	Between the lockers, Michael asked, "Wanna suck them too? The one
with the brown hair's my cousin."

	I had a one track mind. "What'd Henry say?"

	"He just says he don' wanna. What about it? We can do it in the
shower. The old man never comes in here and one o' us can watch in case he
does."

	I admit I'm weak. I wished Ned would come along for the games. The
bigger boy, Michael's cousin, had a nice butt.

	I sucked all four, a hard on bouncing between my legs most of the
time, even the biggest whose ejaculate was past the stage of sweetness but
not as bad as it would be in a few months. The little one was wild, fucking
my face while he held onto the sides of my head. Everyone did it with me
kneeling or sitting on the tile floor with the sound of the water masking
sucking and smacking sounds. Martin was well behaved this time. He had to
figure Ned had told me about his anal sensitivity.

	The biggest, Duby, wanted me to come back the next week so he could
fuck me, lamenting the fact that he hadn't done that instead of being
sucked. I was game.


	When I got home, the hastily made up bed let me know that Ned had
been there with another and, even if he were to show up soon, wouldn't be
up for sex. Once again, it had to be manual. I let visions of the little
one fucking my face take me to fruition.

	Sunday morning, Mom came to my room early to discuss my refusal to
attend Mass.

	"I'm not saying you have to go. I'm never going to do that. I just
want to understand why."

	She waited while I tried to formulate an answer that didn't involve
homosexuality. "You told me to read a lot and I did, do. There's a lot of
stuff that's in the bible and stuff they taught us in school that I don't
think I believe any more."

	"Like what?"

	"Look at all the people got killed and tortured by Christians just
because they didn't believe exactly like the Pope said or just because they
were different."

	Mother thought for a moment then asked, "Do you feel like the
church isn't for you because you're different in some way?"

	Did she know? I panicked. All that sex in my bedroom. How stupid of
me to think she wouldn't find out. I sought a feasible answer that would
hide my orientation.

	She didn't wait very long before, "I'm your mother, you know. I
know when something's bothering my son. You can talk to me about
anything. It doesn't mean I'll discuss it with your father or anyone
else. It'll just be between you and me."

	I was close to tears, tears of embarrassment. Talking this over
with Ned was one thing. We were both the same. But my mother?

	She let me off easy. With a hand on my shoulder and a kiss on the
forehead, she comforted me with, "Nothing about you will ever stop me from
loving you. You don't have to talk about it now but, someday, tell me,
okay?"

	I nodded, unwilling to raise my head and show her my tears.

	As she left, I wished I'd hugged her.

	When Ned showed up an hour later while everyone was still off at
church, I told him what had happened.

	"Shit, you think she knows what we do up here?"

	"I don't know but we do so much. The girls, especially Patty, they
gotta figure we' ain't just doing homework. Maybe one of `em said
something, not Patty, maybe Debbie." She was just eight.

	"Whatta you think she's gonna do? And what about your father if he
finds out."

	"He finds out and he might even kick out Timmy, maybe even you."

	With both of us afraid our entire lives were about to be turned
upside down, Ned encouraged me to speak to Patty, see if my mother had said
anything to her or asked any questions about us. We both believed she could
be trusted if she promised not to mention something. It suddenly occurred
to me that our sex lives may not have been at the bottom of my mother's
questions. What if Patty had told Mom about the books on atheism I'd been
going over at the library?

	Patty was preparing to go out with Nellie and Debbie for their
usual Sunday visit with Aunt Stephanie. She already had her coat on and
resisted coming to my room until I told her it was important. She sent the
girls to see what was on the radio and followed me. Ned had already gone
downstairs to read the funnies and give us privacy.

I came right out with it. "Did Mom ask you anything about me, real
personal?"

"Why, what'd she say?"

"Just some stuff about me being different."

Patty came and sat on the bed, pulling me down beside her. "Look, I didn't
say nothing but, you always got boys with you, you know, boys younger than
you, not even in your school any more like Billy and now Lester and that
kid Friday, and you take baths, well, you used to take baths with `em. And
you ain't got a girl friend. You don't even talk to girls. She's gotta be
stupid not to think something and Mom ain't stupid. What'd she say,
exactly?"

Patty's theretofore unspoken knowledge of me, of my actual sexual
orientation, wasn't really a surprise. She had to know. It just seemed
strange that, as close as we were, nothing had been said.

So I asked, "Why didn't you say something before?"

"First, it's none of my business and, well, what was I going to say, that
you're a fag? I'm never gonna say that, well, I just did but, you
understand. So what'd Mom say?"

"Nothing, just about why I wasn't going to church. You're sure you didn't
say anything about me reading those books on atheism?"

"No!" she insisted. "I never ratted on you about anything, sure as poop not
about you reading some book. So she didn't say sex or boy friends or
anything?"

	"No, just if I was different I could talk to her and she wasn't
gonna say nothing to Dad or anybody."

	She put her arm around me and her head on my shoulder. "So maybe
you should talk to her. She's not gonna get mad or anything, especially if
she already knows and probably she does."

	"What if she says no more boys, or Timmy or Ned can't stay here any
more?"

	Patty sighed. "Maybe the boys like Billy or Lester but she's not
gonna put Ned or Timmy out. They're like members of the family. Ned
is. Don't worry about that.

	"Look, I gotta go. You know I'm on your side no matter what. I
don't care if you like turtles. You're my brother and I love you. Turtles,
geeshhh."

	I hugged her before she left. "I love you too."

	Lying back on my bed, I thanked somebody, God?, for giving me such
a great sister and mother but, how does a boy tell his mother he likes to
suck cock?

	Ned's answer: "You don't. You just admit that you're a homosexual,
if you really want to. I don't think I would, not to mine, never to her."
	We both decided that we needed to keep a lower profile and see
where this was, if it was, leading. The problems with that were
complicated. Billy and Lester were coming over on their own. Were we to
tell my sisters to say we weren't there, that would get back to Mom and
she'd want to know why. It was probably going to be seen as rude, a
cardinal sin in her eyes. Finding and telling them might work but then we'd
be cutting ourselves off from a long time sexual friendship with beautiful
Billy, though I doubted Timmy would mind. And poor Lester desperately
needed us to maintain his currently wobbly sanity.

	Ned had an idea there. "Why not connect him with that bunch of
football players you're sucking off. You said that one wanted to fuck."

	It was a thought but, "Nah, he's gonna be too weird for
them. Anyhow, if we can't do it anymore here, they might be all I
have. You're coming Wednesday, aren't you?"

	"Hell, yeah, and I'm bringing the Vaseline. If I can get Martin
away from you two, maybe I can fuck him. He'll be tighter than you or
Timmy. Shit, he's a virgin!"

	Monday, things got more interesting. Henry announced, "I can go to
your house today if you want. I got permission to come home by five."

	With no time to see if Timmy would be interested, Henry's
unannounced visit had the potential for a lot of discomfort, maybe even
seriously hurt feelings all around. And, it was another boy going up to my
bedroom, hardly keeping a low profile. But, it was Henry Schaeffer,
beautiful, desirable Henry Schaeffer. My libido forced me to say, "Sure."

All morning I was distracted, seeking a way to avoid disappointing lovely
Henry while not pissing off Timmy who could justifiably feel used, and,
aside from that, not attract attention with a new boy in the house. Ned,
for a change, had no ideas other than for him to race ahead and warn Timmy,
see if he'd be interested in a new pair of lips on his dong.

	That became the plan. At lunch alone with Henry in a hallway, I
tried to ferret out what his plans were. He was cautiously defensive
saying, "Nah, I'm just curious. I'm not like you guys, just curious is
all. You can do stuff if you want. I'll just watch."

	Now, nobody, almost nobody, likes uninvolved observers while having
sex. Even Henry had to know that, but, then, maybe he didn't.

"Shit, Henry, you gotta do at least something, you know, maybe beat off or
something. Otherwise, it's gonna be really weird. You don't even have to
take your clothes off."

	He pondered that. "Okay, just beat off." He hadn't indicated
dressed or not. Maybe there was hope.

Ned and Timmy were sitting on the bed when we walked into the room, Ned
looking proud, Timmy expressing both curiosity and discomfort. The moment
the door was closed, Ned went for his belt. Timmy continued to stare. Ned
nudged his arm. Timmy frowned and loosened his. I suggested Henry sit on
the end of the bed by the shaded window which he did, eyes glued on Timmy's
hands. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants. Timmy started to
laugh. Ned jammed his elbow into Timmy's ribs stifling the laugh but not
the broad grin.

Henry's pants rose. He quickly tried to hide his excitement by crossing his
legs and covering the lump with one hand.

Timmy, obviously into whatever Ned had cooked up with him, hopped off the
bed and pushed down pants and briefs sideways toward Henry, surely to let
him see his wares. We three were completely nude in seconds. Ned lay back
and massaged the anaconda. The sight of it briefly raised Henry's eyebrows
though Timmy's quickly growing cock kept a near magnetic grip on Henry's
attention. His hand massaged the bump beneath his fly. I think I saw him
swallow.

Not sure what my part in this possibly scripted drama was supposed to be, I
pushed in between Ned and Timmy who were both on their backs fondling
themselves. As I lay down, Timmy rolled on top of me and planted a Frenchie
right to my tonsils. I briefly, very briefly, forgot Henry and sucked on
Timmy's tongue while he ground his groin into my gut. What I didn't see was
Timmy's hand go out to Henry who took it and allowed himself to be pulled
over to us. Seconds later, my mouth was empty. Timmy's one hand was still
on the side of my face, nudging it toward our visitor. His other was
grappling with Henry, tugging him close enough to put his lips to that
virgin mouth. Henry's eyes were wide open but his mouth wasn't. Timmy
pushed his tongue between Henry's lips, moving his head side to side until
Henry understood. Mouth opened, eyes closed.

I turned on my side to watch, allowing Timmy to move his torso on top of
Henry while pulling his belt open. Henry's arms came up hesitantly,
gradually taking hold of Timmy's shoulders then hugging him tightly. I
could only guess by the movement of Timmy's arm that he was wrestling
Henry's pants open. Then Henry's left hand dropped to his side, his hips
raised and white flesh appeared as his pants were tugged and pushed down. I
couldn't stop myself from sitting up to see his erection for the first
time. Then, there it was, just below Timmy's monster, diminished in size by
it but not in beauty. His little balls pulled their sack slightly down
between his legs. Oh, how I wanted to take them into my mouth!

I looked up. Henry's eyes, thankfully, were still closed. He appeared to be
returning Timmy's tongue lashing. I felt Ned's chest on my back. He was
watching too.

Timmy's hand went to Henry's hard on and began massaging it. Ned pulled me
back, turned me until I was beside then on top of him.

"Kiss me beautiful," he said like Clark Gable or somesuch and pulled our
faces together. We kissed, tongues going everywhere, my eyes on the younger
pair beside us.

Timmy lifted his face and said something into Henry's ear causing Henry to
begin unbuttoning his shirt with Timmy's help. He had to sit up to take it
off. Ned yanked my face toward his and moved us both around in a deep
French.

When I looked back, Henry was naked. Timmy was climbing back on top of him
for some more mouth to mouth. Henry's right hand was pushing between them
for a feel of glory.

Ned led us to the next step. "Sixty-nine," he whispered.

It could only be done the length of the bed. I had to push behind Henry's
head to get into position. Henry didn't notice.

Ned and I began working on each other. I fucked his mouth and sucked on the
anaconda. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement beside us then
legs too thick to be Timmy's were along side me, then a gorgeous groin with
Timmy's smiling face over it. He nodded me over. Timmy only sucked when
that was required to get me horny. I carefully stretched over to Henry's
cock, held vertical by Timmy's little hand, and dropped my mouth over
it. It was heavenly. Henry was ready to fire. I let his cock go and went to
his pretty little testicles, all of thirteen years old and no sign of
growth. They were delicious.

Ned had to remind me with his hands to keep pumping into his mouth. Henry
was right there beside him. I pumped, almost completely unaware of the
sensations it produced.

I went back to Henry's cock. It was perfect, straight and thick, the sides
puffed out like an angry cobra and hard and smooth as polished mahogany,
the head a sponge like cushion on a steel post. Each time he was close to
climax, I'd get back to his soft little orbs and fondle them around in
their loose fleshy sack.

But the play wasn't over. Ned produced the open blue jar of Vaseline by my
nose and proceeded to lube himself up. Reluctantly, I left the scrumptious
pasture that was Henry's groin and let Ned get out from under me and climb
on top.

Entry was smooth and complete. I still enjoyed that great thing inside of
me. Ned began fucking slowly as Timmy got up and suggested, "Wanna fuck? I
can do you or you can do me."

	Probably in a daze, Henry answered, "I don't care. Whatta you wanna
do?"

	"I'll go first, then you."

	With his dick already covered with Henry's saliva, Timmy turned
over the virgin and dribbled spit between his muscular, perfectly rounded
buttocks. He pulled him up by the hips, stuck his finger in to find the
hole, pushed his cock in beside it, pulled his finger out, and shoved his
cock inside like a pistol into its holster, immediately pressing hard
against Henry's body, obviously getting into his anal canal as far as those
mountains of flesh and muscle would allow.

	Following Ned's cue, he laid flat, hands under Henry's shoulders,
and fucked slowly. Henry reached up with one hand and gripped one of
Timmy's. The other went back to hold onto Timmy's thrusting hips.

	Our faces were across from one another. I reached over and caressed
his cheek. He smiled the most wonderful smile I'd ever seen. It was all I
could do not to kiss him.

	It soon became apparent that Ned was not going for orgasm. After
being screwed by him hundreds of times, I could tell. What was the plan,
certainly not that thing of his inside our no longer virgin guest? It had
to be Timmy but why. I waited to see. The plan had been very successful so
far.

	Henry's eyes were closed. Peace was all over him. How long had he
wished for this, anguished over being with another boy, probably a smaller
one? Timmy upped his tempo. Ned slowed down, barely moving inside me. Timmy
rammed in hard a few times then stopped, pushed in as far as he could
go. Henry didn't move, just held onto the hand and hip he'd had since the
intercourse had begun.

	Timmy took a breath and said softly, "Your turn."

	Henry had bad news. "I already got off but I'll do it if you want."

	Ned had an idea, "Just wait some and it'll be ready again."

	Ned pushed into me a few times to let Henry, who was watching, see
him do it then pulled out. Timmy was still inside.

	Henry was briefly alarmed when he saw Ned straddle the two of them.

Ned calmed him with, "Don't worry, I'm just gonna do it with Timmy," and in
he went.

	Timmy held tight to Henry's shoulders. Henry strained to see what
he probably thought impossible. Ned pulled Timmy up and out, sat back and
let Timmy do the work. Henry rolled over, his beautiful dick still stiff as
a Greek spear, amazement on his face as Timmy lifted himself up to the top
of Ned's glans, his leg muscles taut, then dropped down, the long thick
shiny shaft disappearing into his tiny behind, then repeated it time and
again, occasionally rocking side to side. Even after seeing this many
times, it was still amazing to imagine how far up inside Timmy's
sixty-three pound body Ned's cock was penetrating. Ned began to help, eyes
closed, both arms around Timmy's chest, lifting and lowering. Timmy took
hold of his own glistening peter and began working it in time with Ned's
entries.

	I checked Henry. He had a tight grip on his cock and balls,
manipulating along with the fucking. Ned's logic popped into my mind. As
hot as Henry was going to be, a tight asshole would have brought on a
nearly immediate orgasm. Timmy's hole would be anything but tight when and
if Henry went in. Ned was a genius!

	Ned came. I saw the pulsing at the base of his cock. Somewhere up
inside Timmy's stretched and straightened colon, shit was being mixed with
sperm.

	"Neat, huh?" said Timmy to Henry. "Wanna?"

	Henry was ready. Timmy put his mouth on Henry's hard on to slick it
up then lay on the bed. Ned had to guide him into position but Henry
managed to get himself inside. For a while, he remained raised up on his
arms, looking down as his cock appeared and disappeared inside Timmy's
nearly flat buns.

	Timmy said, "Go in harder."

	Henry laid down on Timmy and thrust in hard as he could, his
powerful leg and ass muscles flexing with each stroke. I was
mesmerized. Then he was up again, watching, banging in even harder. Maybe
the hole was too enlarged.

	I needed release. Much as I was tempted to at least take advantage
of Henry's thighs, there was little doubt it would have been a turn off for
a boy far more interested in smooth little boy bodies than a hairy fifteen
year old adolescent. Ned saw the look in my eyes. He grabbed my discarded
tee shirt and held it under his greasy cock as he lay flat beside the
engaged prepubescents. A little Vaseline and I was in sync with
Henry. Heavily stimulated and with the taste of Henry's cock still in my
mouth, I came first. There was sweat forming on Henry's brow when he
slammed in that last time then fell on top of Timmy.

	We'd been at it for a scant twenty minutes but, short of rimming,
had done about all that could be done. It had been a true baptism of riches
for Henry. Lying on top and still buried inside of Ned, I gazed at Henry,
lying exhausted on Timmy's back, dick still buried inside him, a slight
smile on his beautiful face. It was a sight I could have watched for
hours. I pumped a few times, finding myself ready to go again but just
moved lazily in and out.

	Timmy was ready for a bath and urged Henry to join him. The show
was over.

	Ned checked the hallway and sent the two younger boys across
first. With arms full of clothes, we followed. Henry let me wash him, all
over. His cock wasn't motivated by my hands and stayed hanging deflated
between his wonderful thighs. I washed Timmy too, taking longer to do so in
hopes of avoiding a silent treatment, his favored weapon when angry about
something.

	There was no socially opportune moment to speak with Henry. I let
Timmy take him to the streetcar.

	Ned told me how he'd motivated Timmy to participate in their little
drama. "I offered him three dollars but you gotta pay me back. Anyhow, I
think he had fun. I wasn't sure Henry was gonna let you suck him."

	"You think Henry knew who was doing it?"

	"Nah. He was too busy sucking Timmy."

	When Timmy got back, he immediately put his hand out.

Ned said, "I don't got it right now. Anyway, Steve's gonna give it to you."

	"I figgered. Hand it over," he said to me with a used car
salesman's grin.

I had four and gave him all of it and a hug. There was more stashed in my
closet.

	"What if he wants to do it again with you, and no more money?" I
asked knowing he would.

	"I already told him it was okay. He's a nice kid."

	"And he wants you, not me, right?"

	Timmy smiled and went back to his homework.


	Henry arrived early for school. When could he see Timmy again?
There were practices he had to attend Tuesdays and Thursdays but the other
days were free. He'd already told his mother he would be studying some
afternoons with a kid on the East side.

	"Then how come Michael and Martin were able to see me last Tuesday
and want to today?"

	"Practice doesn't start still about four thirty, and, oh yeah,
those other kids from Saturday wanna come tomorrow too if you say it's
okay. You can come to practice after if you want. So when can I see Timmy
again?"

	"Whenever you want. He likes you."

Henry liked that.

	At lunchtime with Ned beside me, I asked Henry, "So how come you
didn't do something before? You hadda know kids you could trust. I'll bet
you could trust Michael."

	"Unh uh. He's always with Martin and I live right behind him."

	That concerned me. "Martin gonna say things about me?"

	"Unh uh. Michael won't let him. Only reason he let Duby and Stinky
go Saturday is `cause you was lookin' at Stinky and he saw you and told
Michael. And Duby's Michael's cousin. They had this other kid suck `em
before, last year, I think. Duby says he fucked him."

	"He say that to you?"

	"Unh uh, to Michael and he told me. He says Duby wants to fuck you
but he's a lot littler than Ned."

	"The great God Thor is smaller than me!" stated Ned. He told him
the joke.

	I wanted to compare notes about our tastes for hairless boys but it
seemed possible Henry would feel restrained with Ned around so I waited
until after school on the way to the bus stop.

	"I don't like boys with hair on their dicks," I asked him. "What
about you?"

	"Me neither. How many boys you do things with?"

	Back to that again. And how I got them, how to tell if they'd talk,
and so on. It wasn't the conversation I wanted to have.

	I did go to practice with him. I'd already told my mother I'd be
home late, that I'd be studying with schoolmates though, or course, in
hopes of an extended sex session.

	Everyone was there though none did more than acknowledge my
presence. Only a few showered afterward with the coach supervising. He had
a wandering eye too. Did he like boys?

Ned and I left the field house with Henry and were left at the bus stop
with Duby. He took us to Martin's where the other three waited. Clothes
were off in seconds. Ned asked if they could do things in separate
bedrooms. It was Martin's house. He agreed but wanted to be second after
Ned had sucked off Michael.

I had little Stinky, who smelled fine and was as wild on top of the bed as
he had been standing in the shower. This time, he wanted to cum twice after
getting off quickly the first time. He wasn't particularly friendly but
didn't mind my hands going wherever they wandered. At first on his back, he
thrust up into my mouth then rolled us onto our sides and banged away from
that position for a while then onto his back again. I held onto his tough
little body, little compared to the other three but at least Henry's size
and maybe stronger, feeling up thighs, hips, buns, and waist, caressing his
muscular chest and hard but rounded tummy then his barely growing balls
that flopped against my chin as he fucked away hard and fast. The second
cumming was as pronounced as the first, with powerful throbs and his hands
gripping my head to his groin. Then, he unceremoniously let go and told
Duby it was, "Your turn."

	Ned came back for Martin as Duby was greasing up with some liquid
out of a bottle. Martin disappeared with Ned as Duby had me lay over the
side of the bed. He tried to jam inside me from six inches away and missed
the hole completely, hitting above it, hurting me.

I jumped up. "Shit!"

	Duby was immediately apologetic. "Christ, I'm sorry, Steve. I'll be
more careful this time. I promise.

With the hollow above my hole still stinging, I got back down and put my
hand behind me to guide him in. He slipped inside easily and lay over
me. After a few slow thrusts, he tugged me up onto the bed and laid on me,

"Close you legs, tight," he requested.

I complied. It enabled him to take long strokes, coming completely out of
my anus but staying in the crease between my buns, always sliding back
where he needed to go. It seemed he'd done this a lot more than once the
previous year. I was enjoying it too. He was massaging both my entry and
prostate with each pass. It got me as hard as Lester's broom handle.

	As opposed to Stinky, he was in no hurry, choosing instead to enjoy
my innards as long as possible. Eventually, Michael squeezed in front of
me, a hard on in need. Much as I liked Michael's cock, sucking it
distracted me from the warm, good feelings Duby was generating with his
slow easy, long stroke screwing. Nonetheless, I got him off well before
Duby was no longer able to hold back his own orgasm. I could almost feel
his juice squirting inside me.

	"Jesus, that was great. We're gonna do it that way every time."

	I rolled over and began to wank my wong, at the same time looking
longingly at Michael. He shook his head. "Just between your legs. I'll be
fast."

	Before he could answer, Duby said, "Let him. I'll keep Martin out
until he's done then he can do it with me next week."

	Stinky gave Duby a disparaging look but Michael agreed.

"But hurry up, and don't get it near my hole," he said with a conciliatory
smile.

	"Don't worry," I said while dripping spit on my cock. A mouthful of
spit between his thighs and it was like Billy. A half dozen thrusts later,
I whipped my cock out at the last minute and caught the scum in my
hands. Duby showed me to the bathroom.

	I worried they'd go looking for Martin and find him with Ned
stuffed up inside but they sat with me in Ned's bedroom.

"Martin sure takes a long time," commented Duby.

	"Getting' fucked," tossed out Stinky.

"Yeah, right," commented Duby sarcastically, sure that wasn't the case.

We heard the toilet flush just before the two reappeared.

"How'd it feel?" asked Stinky hand on his ass.

"Fuck you," groused Martin. "Better than it was when I fucked you."

"Christ, shut up you two," ordered Michael. To me, "I'm sorry we don't say
nothing much to you at practice or games but kids seen you lookin' at `em
and maybe they'll think we're doing what we're doin'. It don't mean we
don't like you `cause we do. I do. Maybe we can do somethin' Saturday after
the game, go to a movie or somethin'."

"Can I bring my little cousin along?" I asked.

"Sure."

Ned was effusive on the way home. On the bus, he led me to a seat in the
back and said in hushed but emotional tones, "I almost got him,
Steve. Jesus, he was tight."

"Almost?"

"Yeah, got the head in but he couldn't take it. Got him to try it again but
got off."

"That fast?"

"No, no. He was sitting on me. Even let me stick my finger in there and
make it bigger, two fingers. Jesus, he was tight. At first he didn't wanna
but I rimmed him some more and told him that was nothin' to having a dick
inside rubbing on everything in there. It took a while and I had to promise
to let him fuck me after and I had to let him sit on me. He put a chair
against the door knob before. He was really scared one o' the others was
gonna see him doin' it. I hadda even promise not to tell you but, fuck
it. So he sat on me, crying that it hurt an' all but I kept tellin' `im
that once he got it all the way in he was gonna love it but, damn, he was
just too tight."

"I thought you said when you rimmed him he was real loose."

"I got two fingers in him. He just couldn't take my cock. Virgins."

"He's still one. So, he fuck you?"

"Yeah. I hardly felt him he's so little but he got off okay real quick so I
know he hadda been liking what I was doin' to him. Almost had him."

I told him about the Saturday invitation.

"They gonna pay?" he asked. "They oughta."

"I don't think so. Michael let me get off between his legs."

"Michael, with the other two watchin'?"

"Duby says he's gonna let me do it to him next time but I'd really like to
do it with Stinky and those big thighs o' his but I don't think he'll let
me."

	That became our outside sex over the next couple of years. Henry
had provided an altered birth certificate to the league office which made
him twelve and kept him playing in the same age and weight category for a
year longer than he should have. It didn't bother me any because as boys
got older and left, younger, just as cute and horny ones took their place.

	About a year after that first session with the four, Ned did manage
to get inside Martin who had grown bigger in all parts. Wild Stinky stuck
around until he turned fourteen but never let me screw him between his
legs. Michael found a girl friend and became monogamous. Duby fucked me a
few times then turned fourteen and decided he wanted exclusivity with
me. He was Gay! Of course, I turned him down, gently as possible, even
allowing a long goodbye kiss. You never know, do you?

	Henry and Timmy became very good friends, not lovers as I'm sure
Henry would have preferred but very active sex partners. What made it work
was the same sort of attention getting behavior Timmy used with me, asking
for help and guidance on his schoolwork and personal matters such as what
to do about being the smallest kid in seventh and eighth grades. As had
been the case with Henry, he was still physically a little boy when he
entered high school at fourteen. There was a little reverse big little
brother in that Timmy, who had continued to work as my helper, had more
money to spend than Henry whose mother rarely gave him more than carfare.

	Though neither was very forthcoming about how their sex life was
progressing, I got the impression from both that it was more than just
satisfying. While I was sad to see Henry enter puberty and develop a small
forest between his legs, Timmy, who'd been making it with the even hairier
Ned and I, couldn't have cared less.

	So you'll know, Henry did allow me to suck him off several times,
at least a dozen I seem to recall, but only while he was doing Timmy or,
preferably, with four inches of cock tickling his prostate. He also became
comfortable showing off his fantastic nude body, hanging around my bedroom
doing homework, reading comics or just chatting as long as Timmy was
equally unclothed. What he only did in front of me twice was screw
Timmy. When I asked, Timmy said only that he considered it a private
matter.

	What else helped in their relationship was Timmy's willingness,
even desire for physical closeness. As with me, he'd lean against Henry,
even lie across his lap when they were close.

	What Henry didn't know and probably would have bothered him was
Timmy's frequent habit of cuddling up, even embracing when we slept. Henry
knew he stayed at my house at least five nights a week, even more once
there was no more church attendance to deal with. In fact, Sunday mornings
with the house empty but for the two of us was when we had some of our
wildest sex. Timmy loved to fuck and tried out every possible means of
doing so. He even had me carry him down the stairs, my dick up his rear,
just to see what it would be like. Another time, with the tub half full, he
had me lie, head under water, ass in the air, as he tried to fuck me to
fruition while I struggled to hold my breath. Didn't work. I think I lasted
about a minute then jerked my head up gasping for breath. He did say it
felt neat just before I gave up.

	At fourteen, Timmy entered a high school with strong trade training
programs. He liked fixing things too but found motor vehicles more
interesting than houses and apartments. His grades could have put him into
our school but my parents and I, recognizing that Timmy had done well due
to effort rather than a high IQ, suggested he enter the school he
eventually did. I don't know if the easy acceptance was because of his
confidence in our counsel, the interesting trade courses there, or a
realization of his own limitations. The high scores in grade school had
required nearly twice as much work as others accomplishing the
same. Whatever the reason, it worked out well. He liked the school and was
able to maintain the nineties he was so rightfully proud of.

	Timmy's dick and balls started growing almost exactly on his
fourteenth birthday. By fifteen, still only a little over five feet tall,
he had more pubic hair than Henry and nearly as much as me. His dick was as
long as Ned's though, had it been straight instead of curved, was probably
longer. Being fucked by him was better than by Ned with that curve making
for a stronger prostate massage.

	My biggest concern with him had been how he'd behave sexually with
girls once he started going out. His first girl friend was another shorty
with the kind of small chest and slim body Ned liked, immediately bringing
on thoughts that he might be like Ned. However, that didn't last. The next
one, Gertrude Stiller, was several inches taller and a far more feminine
build than her name seemed to imply. While we suspected Timmy might have
been going beyond making out with his first love, Gertrude came from a very
strict family so, because he really did like her, Timmy, well, Tim, by then
the preferred moniker, conformed to familial expectations.

	 Back to Ned and me. By sticking around as team manager as long as
Henry was playing, there were a series of opportunities. Michael, according
to him, feeling bad about abandoning us for a girl, introduced us to a new,
very nice looking twelve year old player who eventually brought along an
even smaller friend, not on the team, who had a fourteen year old brother
with a big ass that Ned found attractive but was never able to convince to
sit on his anaconda. However, he was hairless between the thighs and
allowed Ned to mount him from the back. Much of the sex with this group was
in the clubhouse while one kept the old manager occupied in his little
office. The rest was under blankets in a sort of clubhouse our friends and
a few others had built out of scrap lumber and sheet metal in the back yard
of the brothers.

	This arrangement only lasted a few months after Henry's last
season. One by one, the trio lost interest and stopped showing up for after
school dates. To be honest, school, homework including the many carpentry
projects I was assigned or volunteered for, my fix-it business and Timmy
took up nearly all of my time so the loss wasn't much of a bother. The end
of outside sex also removed a degree of guilt I felt about not spending
that time with Timmy. I really loved him, still do.